


I Won't Promise You the Stars

by candiedrhododendrons



Category: Star Wars: A New Dawn, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3931672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candiedrhododendrons/pseuds/candiedrhododendrons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hera is the daughter of legendary freedom fighter Cham Syndulla. She’s the leader of a fledgling rebel cell. And she’s the Captain and ace freighter pilot of the Ghost, on a mission to set fire across the galaxy. So how is it that this no-nonsense, nineteen year old revolutionary is terrified of something as juvenile as falling in love… </p><p>~ Set a few months post A New Dawn ~</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Won't Promise You the Stars

 

Hera often found her spirits sinking whenever she spent too long of a time on dark and wintry planets like this. She reminded herself of that fact now, and tried to ignore the ache flowering in her chest. _It was just the cold_ , she thought as she turned up the ship’s heating system and sat back in her seat. She was both dying to leave this dreary place and in no rush to ascend from the planet’s surface.

But she sat forward in the Phantom’s cockpit, once she noticed a dark silhouette approaching her ship through the misty viewport. Unraveling her arms from around herself, she wiped away some of the condensation on the glass and prepared herself mentally for a quick takeoff. But seeing the figure more clearly now, she recognized him almost instantly—that sure-footed gait, upstanding stature, and tapered waist—and her getaway plans flickered away as quickly as they’d come.

“...Kanan?”

She blinked. It took her a moment to spin in her seat and cross through the small cargo bay of the ship towards the exit ramp in the back. She quickly lowered the ramp and made her way out into the downpour, her nearly-dried, black skater dress that had been part of the morning’s disguise, getting soaked again in the rain. Her boots splashed through brackish puddles and came to a stop once she’d sprinted around to the front of the ship. She looked around, squinting through the incessant raindrops for Kanan. But all she could see was falling water. Rain flooding the leaf carpeted ground, stars breaking through the darkening, cloudy sky, and the smudge of lush foliage at a distance. The air smelled of mist, wet soil, and the Phantom's exhaust.

“Kanan?”

A twig snapped behind her and she spun around. Kanan walked up to her slowly, slower than he’d been ambling towards her ship. His navy tunic, black pants and boots looked heavy, saturated with rain water. His hair and beard were drenched as he stopped half a meter in front of her.

 _He came back._ This was the shortest he’d been gone after slipping away...

Kanan stood there, his height hunched over a bit now. He folded his arms around himself in the torrential drizzle and looked down at her through strands of wet hair stuck to his face. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes escaped hers almost as quickly as they’d met them. He didn’t say anything at first. He seemed to be trying to catch his breath.

Hera made an attempt to wipe any sign of concern off her face. She tilted her chin slightly. “What? Couldn’t afford that other ride off planet?” she asked, shivering a little in the cold that was starting to nip at her. It was hard to stare at him, blinking through the rain, but she kept her chin up.

“Hera…” Kanan’s jaw clenched. He didn’t expect her to welcome him back with open arms after the way he’d told her to back off before. But it still stung to hear the bite in her voice. He hadn’t thought about what he’d say to her if he caught up to the ship in time. He’d only been thinking about reaching the Phantom before Hera took off, and was too relieved he’d made it to say anything now. So no words passed between them for a moment. Just the falling rain and his heavy breaths, condensing into brief clouds in the cold air.

Hera sighed shakily. “Look. It’s fine,” she told him eventually. “I can bring you wherever it is you’re going. Just don’t talk to me when we get back on the ship…” She started to walk around and past him back towards the Phantom’s ramp. Kanan hesitated, but then grabbed her forearm, silently asking her to stop.

“I’m not going anywhere…” he said, loosening his grip once she shook him off. Hera didn’t face him. Droplets hit them like bullets. “At least, I don’t want to. Not anymore.”

He watched her pause and shake her head. Her lekku swayed and she snickered bitterly. The silver ribbons adorning each lek darkened in the unrelenting shower. “You can’t keep doing this to me, Jarrus.”

And he knew it. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I don’t think you’re hearing me.” She turned around, her jaw taut. “You don’t get to keep apologizing. You don’t get to just disappear whenever you feel like it and decide to come back at whatever time you want. That’s not how this thing works. That’s not how my crew is run. I’ve asked you a million times if you’re in this, or if you’re not.”

“And I told you I  _am_ ,” he assured her. But she didn’t seem at all convinced. “Hera. I said I’m sorry. What do you want me to do? I’ve never stuck around in one place for this long, I’ve told you that—”

“And, what, that’s supposed to flatter me? It’s not like I’m begging you to stay,” Hera reminded him, wrapping her arms around her chest.  She was nearly a meter away from him, backing away even more as bottled frustration flared up and out of her. The icy downpour seemed to do nothing to cool her down. “Kanan, I don’t know what you think it is I’m running here. I recruited you because I thought you were skillful, and I could see you’d be a good asset to our mission. And I thought you cared about what we’re fighting for...”

“I do!” He took a step forward, and she another away from him. “Hera, I already told you, that’s not why—” He sighed loudly. “Listen, it _isn’t_  that. I just need to keep moving sometimes. I don’t know. It’s not like taking down the Empire doesn’t mean anything to me too. It means more to me than you seem to think it does. More than you realize.”

“What I need to know is that I can rely on you, Kanan. And I’m just not sure I can do that anymore. I need to know you’ll be there for the next op, the next mission, the next cargo heist. For whatever Fulcrum assigns us. I need to depend on your help and all you’ve shown me so far is that I _can’t_. If your assistance is not always going to be there, I need to know now that it’s time to look elsewhere...” She was talking more at the ground than to his face, it seemed. Droplets of rain dappled across her eyelashes and slid down her cheeks like tears. _Or maybe they were tears_ , Kanan thought, hesitant to fill the space between them again. “If you’re not planning on battling with us wholeheartedly...if you want to leave me, then by all means, go.”

Kanan started to protest. “Hera...”

“Your cooperation isn’t crucial to the—”

“The mission?” He shook his head and came up to her in two strides, taking her shoulders in his hands before she could back away again. “Hera. I _swear_. I just—I panicked. _I’m not leaving you again._ ”

She shook her head, quivering at his touch. “I-I…” She didn’t fight him off but she didn’t look at him either. “That’s not what I meant.”

He only moved in closer and tried to read her face... There were a million stupid reasons why he tried to get away earlier that day, to leave without a trace for the third time in their first few months together as partners. And there were a million more for why he’d yelled back at her after she'd caught him trying to stowaway on that cargoship at the spaceport. The feeling that he was growing too familiar with one place just made him nauseous, as did the fear of putting someone else in danger. The Force branded him with the mark of the notorious Jedi, a mark that was a death sentence for himself and anyone he kept too close.

But Hera wasn’t one of those reasons. As a matter of fact, she was the only thing that kept him coming back in spite of them. Somehow, she managed to fill the parts of his psych, parts that he long considered dead and hopeless, with purpose and reason to live. Kanan had only been merely surviving before her. Serving the rebellion by her side was more of an adventure than an objective to him, even if she thought otherwise. And even when he felt it was time to ditch the scene and taint another corner of the galaxy with his illegal existence, he never got further than a jump in hyperspace away.

And before just now, before she made mention of him leaving _her_  and not just the cause, he’d figured she’d move on with her business just as well without him anyway. And he still thought she could…knew she _would_. But if he was being honest with his feelings, part of him hoped it would kill her inside the way it hurt for him to be so far off from where she was. Part of him hoped she could feel him aching even now… _Hera you’re the first home I’ve had in a while. I’m sorry I’ve left before. But, Syndulla, I’m not leaving you again_. He could have said exactly that. He should have said exactly that... The words were burning on his tongue.

“I’m not,” he repeated instead.

“You are. You will.”

 _No_ , he thought. _Just believe me. I can’t explain everything now, but just_. She didn’t trust him.

He held her tighter. “I’m _not_  abandoning the rebellion,” he said again, more firmly this time. But judging from her face, it didn’t seem to make a difference.

“You don’t feel safe anywhere…” Hera said, keeping her eyes on his boots. They were ankle deep in groundwater. She took his elbows in her hands. “You’re never going to feel safe enough here with me. And you’re always going to leave.” She pushed his arms away.

Kanan swallowed… He let her go and shook his head at the ground. _That isn't true..._

“Alright, you know what. I tried to come back, and I tried to say I was sorry. It’s _hard_  for me, alright? And it’s shit tons harder even admitting that, but whatever,” he said, throwing up his arms. Fallen water sprung from his hands with the motion. “Clearly, you’re not having it, Syndulla.”

“Don’t _Syndulla_  me,” Hera retorted, bending forward to make sure he could hear her voice. “Clearly, you don’t get how essential it is that I know whether or not I can depend on your involvement, Kanan. I’m not putting up with this fickle, on again off again attitude when lives are at risk!”

“There’s no on again off again. I’m all in it, alright.”

“I’m having trouble believing that.”

“Yeah? Then maybe I should go back to where I was headed, and come back to talk to you when you’re a little less suspicious of me, Captain." He scoffed and wiped the hair from his face, already turning to leave.

Hera stiffened. “Just don’t come back drunk when you do.”

Kanan stopped and took a moment to look at her through the cascade of rainfall, his expression conveying arrant disbelief. “You don’t know everything about me,” he said with another quiet huff of sullen laughter.

“I don’t have to. I don’t keep my hopes up.” Hera took another step back from him and then turned completely, stepping again towards the back of the Phantom. She was shivering now, the temperature dropping rapidly as the daylight dimmed away from the expanse surrounding them. Without looking over her shoulder at Kanan, she called through the rain as it fell even harder, droplets slamming faintly against the surface.

“Listen.” She sighed. “It’s fine if you still need the ride off planet. Either directly, or I can take you back to that spaceport. You don’t have to walk through the storm again…” She waited for an answer, slowly pulling herself more tightly into her own hug. The nippy air was starting to make her body shake violently. She could see her own breath, quick white puffs pelted by raindrops. Three puffs and he didn’t answer. She turned around again. “Kanan?”

Just raindrops and the hint of distant forests… He was gone.

“ _Kanan_.” Hera pivoted and looked in every direction, but he was nowhere to be seen. _Wow, really?_  She sucked her teeth. “A waste of time…” she muttered, referring to her decision to wait in the Phantom and see if he showed up. Her eyes pricked with tears as she splashed again towards the back of the ship.

She walked up the ramp, careful not to lose her footing in the downpour. She shut the hatch. She locked the exits. She kicked off her boots—they were making too much noise, squashing as she crossed the cargo hold—and landed in her pilot’s seat, wrapping her discarded cloak around herself and turning the ship’s heating system onto _high_.

Hera lifted her legs and hugged her knees, snuggling herself deep into her cloak as the air around her grew warmer. Tears mixed in with the rain water sliding down her cheeks. She kept still in her position and tried to stop shaking.

But it wasn’t just the cold.

 _It wasn’t just the cold_.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Hera patted her lekku with a clean towel as she walked from the refresher to the galley of the Ghost for breakfast. Stopping in the galley doorway and fixing the tangled straps of her white tank top, she eyed the shelves of boxed food. She had no idea how to prepare or even cook most of the boxed items. And with a sigh, she decided that she wasn’t very hungry anyway. She abandoned the towel on a chair and crossed the small kitchen with her mug, heading over to the sink to pour herself a glass of water instead. She downed it quickly and refilled, drinking until her stomach felt full, and then made her way to one of the Ghost’s engine rooms. Mentally, she made a note to pick up some fruit that could be eaten raw, and some canned denta beans, on her next stop. When her stomach growled loudly, not fooled by the water, she decided that stop would have to be at some point before lunch…

Hera grabbed her gloves and goggles off their shelf at the ER’s entrance and stooped a bit to enter the wide compartment. She started checking the system readings on the ship’s thrusters, making sure the electric motors were converting properly. The Ghost’s handling was always fine, thanks to her consistent maintenance. But Hera could always feel it the minute her freighter’s maneuvering mechanisms were off, even if they were off only slightly. And she hated that feeling. Especially when other things were already bothering her.

Somewhat absentmindedly, Hera checked the airflow going through the room, glancing up at the vents and then opening up her tool box on the floor. She sighed. She wasn’t sure why she was feeling so empty and uneasy. She wasn’t on her period and wasn’t due for it anytime soon. It could have something to do with Kanan...but she didn’t want to worry about that now. She just wanted the Ghost’s handling loosened a bit. That was all. So she got to work and removed the tools she needed, one at a time, returning each one to its compartment of her box once she was done with it. Unfortunately, tampering with mechanisms she’d adjusted millions of times before came as such a second nature to her, it wasn’t enough to distract her from her emotions.

Hera found herself lightly slamming a fist against the wall after a few minutes. She couldn't seem to swallow that dumb ache that hadn’t subsided since yesterday. The recollection of her conversation with Kanan played back nonstop in her mind. Kanan had upset her, but she was a real jerk about it after he’d apologized. She rubbed at her cheek with her gloved fist.

 _Stars_. Why did she have to say that to him… She knew he cared about the rebellion. He didn’t even know the greater picture, and he _still_  cared about the rebellion...and that was saying a lot. She knew he’d meant it when he promised to stick around this time. Even if it was just for the moment, even if he’d break that promise later...those weren’t just words. He'd meant what he said yesterday. He always did. That had to warrant something from her, she thought, though she couldn’t imagine what. _Just more than she’d given..._

Hera leaned against the engine room’s internal wall, and slid down with her back against it until she was sitting on the floor. She hugged her knees close and buried her face into them.

She didn’t _want_  him to mean it though—that he’d stay, that this was the last time he’d take off without warning. No. She didn’t want it...because if she did, it would be mainly for the reasons that she shouldn’t. Subconsciously, she’d been looking for a reason to consider Kanan a failed choice from day one…

Day one.

 _“Let’s go somewhere,”_ he'd said.

Hera’s heart had skipped a beat that day, all those months ago. After he’d slung his bag of belongings onto the Ghost’s durasteel flooring, she knew something pivotal had occurred. She’d only hoped he hadn’t noticed her excitement through that mystical energy field the Jedi could supposedly tap into. She hadn’t known back then _why_  her chest kicked: whether it was because she had just accomplished the task of gaining the first member of her assigned cell, or because of all that had transpired between Kanan and her while they were in the Inner Rim. She’d only swallowed down the feeling and moved it along, laying down the law immediately and keeping all their interactions strictly on business terms as usual. And soon, to her relief, his nonsensical flirting had lessened in its frequency.

It was just...part of Hera still feared Kanan hadn’t stayed solely because he was sick of the Empire’s oppression—solely because he was politically alert to the Emperor’s twisted affairs of state… Part of her still remembered the way he’d use to come onto her. He used to be so open all the time about his affections for her when they’d first met, that she'd felt his claims completely insincere. They were both vaguely irritating and easy for Hera dismiss.

Growing up, Hera had learned pretty early that almost everyone in the galaxy had a thing for female Twi’leks. And she never let the unwarranted attention go to her head. She learned to work with it instead, using her qualities to her advantage. So at first, she’d felt nothing for Kanan. She'd figured his emotions were no different than the affections of half of the other people she'd came in contact with during her travels—male, female or otherwise. There was no reason to make anything more of those coy remarks and offers. She expected that sort of attention from Kanan to die out eventually. They would come across prettier, _and more willing_ , girls on their travels anyhow. Soon enough, he’d get bored of her stand to remain on professional terms with him. And Hera could put up with him until then.

...Or so she’d thought.

It was different now. The lighthearted flirting had subsided like she'd hoped, but it was replaced with something even more threatening to her self-restraint. Sometimes she’d catch Kanan looking at her. Not just ogling at her arse or staring at her in any lewd kind of way, but just…at _her_. Longingly and quietly when he thought she couldn’t see it—while she was explaining the greater purpose of a seemingly small mission (so that he wouldn’t bail on her) or even just studying a holocard of schematics. She couldn’t imagine what there was above her shoulders for him to look at so intently, but her chest kicked whenever she noticed those blue-green eyes in her peripheral vision. And he always looked away immediately once she'd caught him, pretending to be focused on something above her head, or really curious about whatever it was she was reading. It was as if he didn't want her to notice his feelings anymore. It was puzzling.

And Hera’d never gotten those kind of stares from anyone before.

She felt as childish as anything worrying about it, but she did a lot of the time. And part of her thought about the Kanan when she curled up in her bunk after the day’s op. But now, instead of feeling _nothing_ , she’d feel so much _something_  she’d have to bite back her smile as she thought about the fact that this _scoundrel_  she’d met on Gorse was in his own bunk just a few quarters away on her ship. She'd crush her blushing face into her pillows and try to focus on other things.

It was too much to swallow sometimes. Kanan's nearness often made her feel frustrated in ways she hadn't before, like she wanted something she shouldn’t want, and had lost all authority over her emotions. And it was too confusing. She was always dodging his advances, never sure if he meant them or didn’t mean them...only certain that her answer was always  _no_ .  Part of her _did_ want him to mean it...that he’d stay. But that same part of her wanted even more to just come up with a logical reason to make him leave.

Okadiah would have been pleased to know she'd let Kanan stick around for as long as she did.

She wondered briefly now, alone in one of the Ghost’s ERs, if Kanan ever felt the same… If that was why he fled every once in a while… Did he hate that too? Feeling so vulnerable?

The way it felt to have his fingers pressed against her shoulders in the rain yesterday… It made them buzz even now just thinking about it. Hera crossed her arms and touched them, attempting to cease the electric flow that she wished was coming from some loose wires instead of her own hormones. It was terribly awful, and just frakking _inefficient_  to feel this way… She wanted to kick herself for it. But she wanted to kick herself even harder for letting these childish feelings cost her a worthy crew member. Even if he had his weaknesses, and even if he seemed to bring out her own, Kanan was a Jedi and a smart tactician. That would prove to be a vital asset to this cause. And she knew it, regardless of what she told him yesterday. Even Fulcrum had made that point herself when Hera'd first described Kanan to her.

Besides that, Hera’s father had wanted to set a _fire_ across the galaxy with his ideals, not a spark that flickered on and off whenever she grew too attached to a fellow soldier and spaced him as a panicked response. Her father’s dream had become hers now, and she needed to get her kriffing self together if she was ever to fulfill those ambitions… If Kanan would still rejoin her cell, she’d learn to deal with both these weird emotions and his petty advances, until both distractions had died away. (They had to, eventually. Didn't they?)

She’d face them head on. She wouldn’t run away from her problems.

 _Obviously…_  she thought with a light sigh, and a smile quivering at the corner of her mouth. _This means I’ll have to find him now and apologize..._

Hera’s stomach growled angrily.

 _And soon. Because, stars, I don’t know if I could go back to living off of fruit and blowtorched beans…_ She started thinking about all those boxes of delicious meals in the galley and remembering another advantage of Kanan’s presence, when she heard the ship’s internal comm alert go off.

Hera rose to her feet, abandoned her gloves on the floor, and quickly stepped down the hall to the bridge. The main cockpit’s door opened with a _hiss_  and she sprinted up to the control panel to hit the answer control. _Ah, right on cue_ , she thought, adjusting her tank straps again and lifting her goggles.

It was Fulcrum.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Hera made her way through the marketplace the way she went about going anywhere: surreptitiously and with purpose.

Dressed in a loose fitting, sand-colored tunic, matching pants, and her black boots, she looked both unsuspicious and unalluring to passersby. Or at least that was her intention. Her leather head covering with a brim protected her from the suns’ rays as she stepped quickly with her fruit basket in hand and charged blaster on her belt. Her weapon was hidden well underneath the tunic where the fabric covered her waist. She’d nearly forgotten Fulcrum's latest assignment. She had Hera and Kanan scoping out the surface for a particular group of supposedly 'fallen' senators these last few days...

Fulcrum had suspicions the politicians would be willing to join the greater rebellion, but wanted Hera and her partner to find more information on just what the political sect was up to first. The revolution didn’t need a bunch of corrupt politicians out for personal gain in their ranks, no matter how much these senators evidently hated the Empire. But, if they were truly rebels, unity among rebels was key.

Hera and Kanan had been stopping by at all the backwater areas on the planet in search of their whereabouts. Kanan had been able to point out two of the senators so far, and together with Hera, pick up some information on the both of them. Yesterday though, Kanan had decided to disappear mid-mission, seemingly out of the blue. And Hera had to find her partner in a whole other _system_ , on his way to board a ship heading closer to the Outer Rim.

Today, it was back to Senator fishing—alone. It was a bit easier with Kanan helping her, of course, considering he could read people like a book with those intriguing extra-abilities that he dreaded using so much. (For whatever reason.) Hera did not doubt she could see through the others’ disguises herself, though, without the Force. She’d been doing it for years before this mess of a Jedi had crashed into her life.

Thinking about Kanan now distracted her thoughts as she stepped through the crowd, waving graciously, if not absentmindedly, at shopkeepers and barterers at their stands yelling offers in her direction. All she’d bought was a couple of fruits to keep her going. But mostly, she just weaved through the crowds and watched for clues, wondering where Kanan was now and what he was up to...

She always wondered about that when he vanished, and often even after he returned, though she never asked too much about where he’d been.

The first time, she’d thought she’d lost him for good. But then he returned to the Ghost a drunken mess two weeks later, in tears, claiming he was going to heave all his internal organs as she helped him return to his quarters. She’d asked him where he’d been and he’d only said _back to hell_. They never spoke about it again. Nor about the second time it happened, when it had only taken him one week to relocate the Ghost. Hera never asked him where he’d been, only why he’d left. But she always wondered where he’d gone off to...and how he was always able to find her location again. Before it was because she wanted to be sure he wasn’t a traitor. Now it was because she worried.

Yesterday, Kanan had come back only a couple of hours after she’d caught him trying to ditch her—on a cargoship to who-knows-where. He was probably who-knows-where now, she realized.

 _He might be back here with me instead if I hadn’t told him ‘his cooperation wasn’t crucial to the mission’_...she thought, biting the inside of her cheek. _Maybe._

She silently told herself to give it a week before trying to find him, or before expecting him to run into her again somehow. She hadn’t exactly reported to Fulcrum that he had disappeared yet...just in case he showed up sooner. Plus, she wasn’t quite sure how to explain that she’d lost track of their Jedi for the fourth time, and technically the second time in one day. She’d be quick though, when the moment came, to remind Fulcrum that Kanan didn’t really have any information to give anyone. Of course, Hera didn't believe for a second that they'd have to worry about Kanan even attempting to sell them out. She didn’t know everything about Kanan, what he'd said yesterday was true, but she knew he would never turn against them like that. She couldn’t explain that part to Fulcrum, _how_  it was she knew this. But—

Hera bumped into a Rhodian man that had stopped walking right in front of her, and he dropped all of his creds to the ground. “Watch it!” he exclaimed over his shoulder, rushing to pick them up.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she responded, throwing on the charm instinctively and covering her mouth bashfully with her hand. The act was wasted, though, as the man didn’t even look at her. He only managed to gather two of the credit chips before the rest were all snatched up by rummaging pickpockets and beggars. The thieves seemingly sniffed out the opportunity to gather the free money before Hera had the chance to even kneel down and help the guy.

“Hey!” Hera said, as she stood up straight and attempted to snatch a credit back from the hand of one of the pickpockets, a one-eyed Nikto man, that towered over her in height. The thief shook her off, shoved her to the ground, and hissed at her before running away. Hera landed on her backside with a thud, but scrambled quickly to her feet before she could make a scene or be trampled by the relentless crowd of market goers. The horde of customers didn’t stop moving for a second. The thieves had scattered into the mob, but the Rhodian man hadn’t gone anywhere. He jabbed a finger in Hera’s chest.

“That was all my money!”

Hera frowned. “I’m sorry but, maybe next time you shouldn’t carry it all in one hand like that,” she said, shoving his hand away. She reached into her pocket for more creds to give him—she felt badly after all—but the man yanked her arm, pulling her towards him.

“You _will_ pay for this!” he threatened her, getting spit onto her face.

Hera tore her arm out of his grasp and tried to move past him, but he blocked her way and grabbed at her again. He started looking her up and down while she struggled to tear free. “Where are your papers?” he asked sheepishly, making a blatant reference to her species and their notoriety for being sold like pets. Hera was almost struck with disbelief at how quickly the stranger’s countenance had changed. Almost.

“Move,” she replied darkly, her voice even more threatening than his had been. The man was clearly shaken by it, but he didn’t let go of her. Hera’s fingers fell to her hip where her blaster sat. But before her cover could be compromised, someone from behind her, in a cloak with black sleeves, reached forward and handed the Rhodian a handful of credit chips.

“I think these will suffice.”

Hera’s heart leapt into her throat. _That voice._

“Now beat it, asshat.”

The Rhodian looked shocked at the offer but only hesitated for a microsecond before he snatched the creds as quickly as he’d considered exploiting Hera’s status as a free citizen. He smiled greedily and then backed away into the crowd and ran, remembering to pocket his loot this time. Hera wondered briefly if those creds he’d dropped were even his to start with, but the thought fluttered away almost as fast as her chest was flickering now. She spun on her heels to face her helper in the cloak.

_There were those blue-green eyes._

“You always seem to find me…” she said, trying hard to hold back the smile threatening to spread across her face. She bit her lip to keep it under control.

Kanan raised his brows in surprise at her bright response. He half smiled at her in return, but it faded quickly. “I pay attention to Fulcrum’s directives too, you know,” he reminded her, and Hera had no trouble swallowing her grin anymore. “Believe it or not, I remembered our mission isn’t done.” Kanan shrugged. “I’m assuming that’s why you’re here too. Find anything?”

Hera shook her head. Had he really been looking for the senators as well? She couldn’t believe it. But she didn’t want to insult him again by telling him so. “No. You?”

Kanan nodded. “I’ve got another one, but she doesn’t know I’m following her.” He subtly tipped his chin towards a stand a few meters away from them. An old Human man was bartering some jogan fruit for a meiloorun. Hera squinted for a moment. It took her a few seconds, but soon she recognized the customer. Below the man’s facial hair, green contacts, and thick clothing, must have been Senator Liya of Ejolus. She could see it in the person’s wrinkled facial features that were still visible, and the gap in her front teeth.

“Oh. She’s good,” Hera said, amazed, as she turned back to face Kanan as innocently as she’d turned to see the senator. “So, what have you noticed so far?” she whispered as they made their way to a post opposite the meiloorun fruit stand and pretended to look at some jewelry.

Kanan lifted a necklace made of shells and held it against Hera’s neck casually. It was a neutral gesture. Even so, her skin burned where his fingers brushed against her collarbone. His hands were cold. “Sorry,” he said quickly, not meaning to actually touch her. “So far, she’s been bartering for everything with jogan fruit, so there’s that. She’s purchased a lot of spare weapon parts, things like gasplugs, hammer springs, and barrel casings. All blaster parts, actually, and the really cheap versions of everything too… That meiloorun is the first normal thing I’ve seen her barter for this afternoon.”

Hera bit her lip as Kanan held up a pair of hoop cone-casing earrings to her uniform earphones. “Those would look positively stunning,” the old Human woman at the stand told the two of them, with an approving nod.

“You think so?” Kanan asked her. He glanced at Hera, but she made no reaction to the woman’s offer. Instead Hera raised her brows and moved a bit away from the stand, not wanting to be overheard. “How much?” Kanan asked the woman, reaching into his pockets. Hera looked up at him.

The woman tucked a tuft of silver hair behind her ear and told him the price. Kanan laid the money on the tabletop and bid her good day, before following Hera back into the moving crowd. Senator Liya was moving on now, and so were they.

Kanan handed Hera the earrings and she took them. Even though she didn’t want them really, she said nothing. “About our Senator. It sounds like she’s thinking about running a weapons factory,” she speculated.

Kanan raised his brows at her. “A factory?”

“You said she’d been collecting cheap weapon parts…” Hera tried to connect the dots, but there just weren’t enough yet. “Either she’s trying to build herself one really crappy gun or she’s gathering interchangeables for reference.”

“Reference?”

“For standardized mass manufacturing,” Hera said, snapping her fingers on one hand, as the plausible answer occurred to her. “Guess our senator friends aren’t just planning to have a tea party without the Emperor after all,” she said, referencing a joke Kanan had made a few days ago...

“Ah.” Kanan nodded, with a smirk. “Wonder why our underground party of old politicians would need to be so heavily armed, though.”

Hera wondered the same, but she couldn’t pretend to care so much about that anymore. Keeping watch on Senator Liya with the corner of her eye, she spotted a break in the rush of citizens and pulled Kanan through the crowd. They stopped at an empty stand to the side of the swarming shoppers.

“Listen.” She sighed. “I’m sorry for a lot of what I said yesterday. I didn’t mean most of it, Kanan. I mean, your participation is so important to this cause, so important to _me_. And I just get so frustrated with all the inconsistency, do you understand? But, look, you apologized, and I forgive you. And I’m willing to have you back on my team. I just want you to know that I’m sorry too,” she said, all in one breath.

Kanan seemed unsure of how to respond for a second. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied eventually, glancing down at her hand, still clasping his.

Hera let go of him quickly, and tried to breathe easily. Pushing through the crowd must have had her out of breath, she figured. “Where did you get those creds?” she asked, in a less sympathetic tone. She really was sorry. But she expected another apology from him too, for his disappearing last night. She wasn’t about to ask for it though, not after he’d helped her out with that creep and bought her a pair of earrings just minutes ago. And not if she still had yet to convince him to rejoin her.

Kanan shifted uncomfortably and adjusted his hood, glancing over the crowd at the senator. “ _Don’t worry about it_ ,” he repeated, sounding almost irritated now. Then he scoffed, looking back down at her. “Why are you so worried about me all of a sudden?”

Hera frowned. “What are you talking about?” She narrowed her brows. “I still consider you a part of my crew... So naturally, I’m a bit concerned, alright.”

“Concerned, huh. About me? Or the loss of one of your assets?” he inquired, raising his brows at her and crossing his arms across his chest.

“Your ass...asset, is not—” Hera felt the blood rushing to her face and she started again. “Look, you know what I meant. You’re not just an _asset_.” She could see Kanan stifling a grin. She punched him in the arm, and his grin spilled. “And quite frankly, Kanan, I think I have the right to know if you have a price on your head or something. Which is why I’m asking you about the creds only one more time.”

“You think I _stole_  the money?” His smile faltered.

“Just tell me how you got all those credits on such a short notice.”

Kanan frowned and he hesitated. “Alright,” he said eventually, stepping towards her.

Hera froze for a moment, but she took a step back when he leaned in closer and reached for her hand. “What are you doing?” she asked quietly.

Kanan raised an eyebrow, and took the earrings from her fingers. “Watch.”

He walked over to a fruit stand a few meters away from her, and chatted quietly with the man behind the counter. After a few moments he left the stand with a basket of muja fruit. Hera watched from across the crowd as Kanan crossed the sea of customers. He managed to sell a fruit to everyone walking past him, and then proceed to sell even the basket. He wound himself through the crowd again back over to where Hera stood and pulled back a sleeve to reveal the handful of new creds he received. He flashed her a smile.

Hera stared at the money speechlessly for a second. “That’s cheating,” she concluded. “You used your mind tricks on them. Or at least you lied and swindled them out of their money…”

“Neither. I just charmed them. Got a discount on the muja, but sold them full price." He shrugged. "And I sold the basket, but who’s keeping score.”

Hera couldn’t believe it. “But...that woman who sold you the earrings...they were like a fraction of the price of all that fruit...even discounted.”

“Apparently not. According to the current owner of those earrings,” he gestured at the man a few meters away. “They’re worth a heck of a lot more, because they’re cone-casing. I’m guessing that woman gave us a bargain because she saw you, and thought maybe you’d look good modeling her jewelry. Like free advertisement or something.”

“Or she thought we were dating,” Hera offered before she could stop herself.

Kanan hesitated before agreeing. “Yeah,” he said, pocketing the credit chips.

Hera tilted her chin. “But how did you know I didn’t want those earrings?”

Kanan looked at her somewhat nervously for a second before realizing she was joking. “Never really saw you as a jewelry girl. Figured you hated wearing stuff like that,” he said with a smirk.

“Incredible,” Hera said with a smile. There was that tactician she needed by her side. “And that’s how you’ve been making the money.”

“More or less.” He didn’t elaborate, a little stunned she was clearly so impressed. Kanan was always surprised when Hera was moved by something he did. It was never anything he’d expect. He'd once told her that he’s dated several women of nobility, and even showed her that he could fight off ten thugs at once on a mission. But those acts got nothing from her but an eye-roll and a lecture about taking risks.

It was always the parts of him he considered pretty run-of-the-mill that got her excited it seemed—things like his ability to open a holocron, his knack at coming up with on-the-spot disguises that got stormtroopers off their tail, or his knowing how to make money off of bartering at a market square, for example. Then again, Hera _was_  acting a little weird at the moment, he couldn’t help but notice. If he remembered correctly, last time they’d talked, she’d essentially told him to hit the road. Even though he was extremely glad to see her, he didn’t expect her to be half as glad to see him. Or to apologize for that matter. He’d been feeling pretty crappy yesterday, thinking she had every right to be fed up with him for always letting her down.

He sighed now. She was impressed for now, but Hera Syndulla wouldn’t have been nearly as proud if she’d known what else he did to make extra cash yesterday—namely gambling. He wouldn’t tell her that part though. She asked him no more questions and he wasn’t about to lose her praise.

...And she’d just grabbed his arm again.

“The Senator!” Hera hissed, realizing she lost track of her. Her thin fingers gripped Kanan's forearm tightly and then let go. She looked around as subtly as possible for their suspect.

“Relax, I’ve got my senses tagged on her,” Kanan said. He surveyed the crowd for a moment, hating himself for resorting to the Force for guidance. It was something he swore he’d do only during life or death situations, not something he'd tap into just to hold onto Hera's commendation. He lifted his gaze over the crowd. “She’s by the garment stand,” he said quietly. “We should keep walking.” Hera followed his eyes and nodded, walking beside him with her basket.

After a moment, she smiled up at him. “Listen, I’d be glad to have you back,” she said, trying to make sure her request was as clear as possible. “Without your abilities, the ops are harder, my arsenal lacking. And I think we make a good team.”

Kanan smiled, facing the slow moving crowd ahead of them. “Figured my ass is too valuable after all, huh?” he asked, and she responded with a short laugh. “Alright, Captain. Consider the team reinstated.” He hadn’t been sure he was going back to the Ghost with her after this Senator chase until just now. And he was glad to hear her say she wanted him. And yet, somehow, hearing Hera say they _made a great team_  also made him want to find the nearest spacebus and take it to the Outer Rim. He tried to kill the thought though, not sure why it arose.

And if it didn’t go away soon, he planned on fighting through it for as long as he could.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Aboard the Ghost, Hera finished reporting their findings to Fulcrum in the cockpit, the door locked behind her. She always made those reports alone. Kanan never seemed too bothered about never getting to meet their contact, and he never questioned her about it. If he’d learned anything at all these last few months, it was that Hera Syndulla knew what she was doing. This was her movement he'd walked into, and he was just tagging along even though it was starting to feel like his own. He figured she'd introduce him to this 'Fulcrum' when the moment was right.

Now, Kanan sat on the cushioned seating in the briefing room before the ship's small holoprojector. He’d just taken a shower (it was the first thing Hera made him do once he got back on the Ghost) and had thrown on a clean tunic and pants. He flipped through channels on the HoloNet aimlessly, his wet hair hanging around his shoulders where he’d slung a towel around his neck. Hera soon appeared in the doorway in her cargos and a tank top, inspecting a small holodisc of Fulcrum's instructions, and crossed the room to where he was. She glanced at the space next to him on the seat, but then opted for sitting on the floor. She placed the holodisc next to her on the durasteel. Kanan passed her the bowl of home-baked protato crisps from his lap and she scooped out a handful.

“Any news?” he asked her.

“No. I told Fulcrum about the weapon parts and the jogan fruit… Fulcrum thinks we might be right about the mass production scheme, but also wants us to keep at it. Maybe even try a new tactic that allows us to delve deeper.” She ate the crisps delicately, one at a time.

Kanan nodded and stopped flipping through HoloNet channels, landing on a holocartoon about a stormtrooper kid chasing a reckless tooka cat causing anarchy. “Did you tell Fulcrum I came back?” he asked.

“I never told Fulcrum you’d left,” Hera replied, covering her mouth with the back of her other hand when she spoke with her mouth full.

He glanced at her. “Really?”

Hera shrugged. “I was hoping you’d return, I guess, before I had to.” She swallowed. “And you did.”

Kanan thought about that for a second and then nodded. He leaned back in his seat and lifted the towel from around his neck and laid it over his head, using it to ruffle up his wet hair and get it to dry faster.

From where she sat, Hera could just catch the scent of the conditioner he used… She had read the label on it in the shower once before, wondering if Kanan’s Human ways would ever cease to amuse her. _Suave Enticer: Lure her in with your lady-killing fragrance… Now with extra oils and panthenol for moisture + shine..._ (She did like how it smelled though.)

Hera pulled the bowl of crisps from next to Kanan to the edge of the seat so she could reach them from the floor, and the two watched the cartoon in silence for a bit. The Ghost glided through hyperspace like a cloud.

“So what ‘new tactic’ are we trying out tomorrow?” Kanan asked after a while. His disheveled mane was falling in all directions now, and he combed through it with his fingers. “Maybe you could go undercover as Layda the kickass cleaning lady again. Go door to door, offering service at all suspect houses.”

Hera laughed softly. “But really. That actually sounds like a plan,” she agreed. Then she fell silent. “Kanan…” she added eventually. And her tone made him look at her. “I know I don’t _say_  it, necessarily...but I worry, whenever you take off. That something might happen to you, and that I’ll never know if it did.” She hazarded a glance at him.

Kanan dodged her eyes and laughed sullenly. “Can we just stop talking about this?” He started flipping through channels again. Hera watched him for a moment, considering just dropping the topic for the night. They’d both had a long day.

But then she thought against it. If this would be the last time they talked about this, _really_  talked about this, she wanted him to understand one thing. So she got up and moved beside him on the seat, sliding over until she was right next to him and he froze.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked.

He nodded stiffly not sure what Hera was getting at. Kanan didn’t want to talk about why he left anymore, but he put down the holoprojector controls and looked at her. It was hard to say _no_  when Hera's leg was brushing up against his. She crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, her lekku swaying a little, as if preparing to relate a long story. Kanan only hoped it wasn’t _too_  long a story. He could listen to Hera talk for days, but not if it was about—

“When I was younger, like around fourteen or fifteen, I was never too popular with, you know, prospective dates. Like no one ever wanted to court me.”

—Never mind. This was interesting. “ _You_ , Cap?” Kanan asked, as a stunned expression spread across his face.

“Can you believe it?” Hera asked sarcastically, with a short laugh.

Kanan hadn’t been joking, but it was just as well that she thought so. He gave a small shrug. “Somehow, I imagined all of Ryloth battling each other for the chance to attract such a pretty face.”

Hera smiled a bit and shook her head. “Alright, don’t," she said, rolling her eyes. "But, yeah, it was tough. I was the daughter of our revolutionary chief. My dad, he was like the one person every Twi’lek planet-wide looked up to. The great _General Syndulla_.” She spoke his name with excessive grandeur. “Anyone who wanted to be in a relationship with me knew they’d have to go through him first… And deal with him afterwards, if we ever ended it… Times were rough enough on Ryloth as it was back then...especially since the Empire had cracked down on all resources after the Clone Wars. And I was never in one place, since I'd joined the resistance after the War ended. No one was taking any chances with the General’s daughter. Even the few guys I liked told me they’d rather not deal with the extra stress...” She paused a moment, her eyes losing focus as she mentally traveled back in time. “And it wasn’t just with dating, it was with everything. Everyone. Casual romance, friendships… I never had anything like that, save a few best friends. Either people were afraid of getting close to me, or I was afraid of letting them. Sometimes, the other kids would invite me to their parties, you know? Or to hang out after our village's clandestine festivals. But I’d tell them I had a mission with my father off planet. I mean, what if something happened? If anything wild went wrong while we were trying to have fun, they’d all get in _major_ , major trouble with the chief...more than if I’d just dodged their invites.” She sighed. “So I just...kept to myself. Figured they wouldn’t like me anyway, once they got to know me.” She laughed again, more softly. “Not a lot of girls make too many friends by showing off their model spacetruck collection, sharing scars and bruises from a recent heist, or blabbing about politics, you know...” She smiled to herself as memories Kanan couldn’t see played across her eyes. "And by the time I was sixteen, I didn't have any bullets left to dodge... The rebellion called, and I _really_ had to separate myself. I kind of regretting never trying once things changed..."

Kanan watched her eyelashes flutter quickly, as if batting away tears. She must have been remembering something other than struggling to date anyone, but he didn't ask what. He got the point. And Hera rarely talked about her childhood. It was nice having her open up like this all of a sudden. Still, he hoped she didn’t expect him to open up too...not now. He wasn’t ready to do that yet.

Hera heaved a sigh and then abruptly turned in her seat to face him, her leg crossed over the cushions and her knee against his thigh. She rested her head against the seat's cushioned headboard. “Anyway. What I’m trying to say is... I don’t know you as well as I thought I did. You were right to call me out on that.” She shrugged. “You’re an endless book, Kanan. Some of your chapters are private, and I can respect that. I’m the same way. You don’t ever have to tell me where you are, or where you've been, unless it pertains to the safety of our crew, alright? I just need you to know that if you’re bailing on me because you’re afraid of putting me in danger, because you’re this renegade Jedi on the run or _whatever you are_ …”

Kanan’s eyes softened as he looked down at Hera, and she tried not to see it. He loved the way her eyes brightened whenever she spoke of insurgency. And he was relieved to know she didn't mind him keeping parts of himself shut in, at least for now. Hera leaned in and put a hand on his knee. “I _know what I signed up for_ ,” she continued. “I’m Captain of this charade, just remember that. I’m already evading detection. And I will go down with this cause, with this ship, even if it’s sinking because you’re on it.” She raised the hand from his knee and extended her pinkie finger. “I promise.”

Kanan found himself momentarily distracted by the way her lips were gently smiling at him now as she promised she’d stick around as long as he did. He was almost startled by the prospect, and thoughts of taking off in the morning started coming back to him. It wasn’t just his fear of putting Hera in danger...it was the way sitting here on the Ghost with her now made his chest ache for a different time and different circumstances, for him to be someone that he wasn’t anymore—someone who deserved to call this place his home...

Caleb Dume wouldn’t leave his partner in the lurch. Caleb Dume would be afraid of growing too attached to Hera in _some_  ways, but not like this. Kanan Jarrus was the one who wanted to follow Hera to the ends of the galaxy. And yet Kanan Jarrus was too much of a wuss to call what he had with her  _home_ …

 _“Perhaps the answer will come to you in another form,”_  Depa Billaba had told her prospective padawan once, when he'd been worried about not knowing what to do without the Order to guide him. That had been ages ago. Back when calling a place his home felt like the most normal thing in the world. Back when such a thought _didn’t_ send warning signals blaring through his nervous system. Back when his psyche didn't tell him  it was time to take off whenever he found himself getting too comfortable in one place.

When would he know it was time to settle for good? _Where was home?_

He'd once considered Hera one of those answers. _Perhaps, Master?_  Kanan thought now.

No, he still didn’t think he deserved to have someone like Hera take him in. But someone like Hera didn’t deserve to have him backing out on her again. Kanan thought he could hear her heartbeat quickening now. He thought he could hear what she was saying between her words... And Kanan leaned closer to Hera, raising his own hand, and looped his little finger with her even smaller one. “Alright,” he said. Hera’s lip quivered slightly at his touch, and he noticed that too.

Hera swallowed. “You’re supposed to say you promise, too,” she informed him, her voice sounding smaller than she intended. He was sitting so close to her, she suddenly noticed. Or rather, she had sat down so close to _him_. She could feel the fringe of his breaths against her face, and blood rushed to her cheeks. Kanan’s gaze flickered down at her mouth, and then returned to her viridescent eyes.

“I promise,” he told her. He lowered their hands, out of the way, and slowly moved in closer, watching for any signs that she didn’t want him to.

Hera looked at Kanan’s mouth, at his eyes, and bit her lip. She nodded quickly, and then unhooked her hand from of his, leaning back in the seat. “Good,” she said, and she stood up, adjusting the straps of her top and looking away from him—before she could make _another_ mistake. “Th-that’s all I wanted to hear.” She could see Kanan clench his jaw as she picked up the bowl that had been behind her on the seat, now empty of crisps, and carried it around the holoprojector. “I’m just going to refill this…” Hera stepped hurriedly out of the briefing room, trying to ignore the way her heart was kicking in her chest now, so hard it might just rip through her skin.

Her fingers trembled as she opened the door to the galley and placed the bowl on the table. She opened the gasser to retrieve more crisps and scooped them into the bowl with a spatula. She cursed under her breath when several fell to the floor due to her shaky handling of the utensil. She knew Kanan was the cook, but she should at least be able to transport a few protato slices into a bowl...

And why was she even shaking? Was she cold? She felt hot. But maybe she should grab her cloak, or a thick tunic to throw on over her tank anyway. It was _freezing_  in the Ghost, she suddenly realized. It really was. Well, a little. Okay, not really. But she was definitely shivering in the current temperature, so something was wrong. Hera stooped to pick up the fallen protato bits from the floor and tossed them into the waste disposal at the edge of the counter. She took a moment to try and gather herself, taking a few deep breaths as she gripped the table edge and stared at the durasteel floor.

She could still feel the hint of Kanan’s breath on her lips…still feel the lightning in her finger that had been intertwined with his...still visualize her immediate thoughts of pressing her hand against his chest where his tunic dipped below his collarbone and unlacing those leather strings that held his shirt together...

_Blast it._

But, no no. This was fine. _She_  was fine. She was. It was all going as well as she’d planned. Exactly as she’d planned. She got her teammate back, and she was sure he would be staying on-board for a long time. That meant a greater chance of success on this mission, and all the others to come. Which in turn meant a greater chance of the overall rebellion winning this fight, in the grand scheme of things. That was what she’d planned. That was what she’d wanted.

Hera reminded herself that she was probably going to face this sort foolishness for their partnership. She might as well get used to fighting it off, and not running away. And besides, her shaking really might just be due to the chilled air of the ship. She liked to keep it cool on-board, to save heating expenses and keep the recycled oxygen on the Ghost crisp and sterile. Yes. Really, she just needed a thicker tunic to wear. Or maybe she ought to turn down the ship’s air conditioning a bit. Either way. That was all it was. It was just…

_It was just the cold..._

 


End file.
